Shades of the Future
by Michelle Birkby
Summary: Set directly before Shades of grey, and a sequel to 'I missed you'..as told by Sam. Like before, written a long time ago, but I quite like it, so its here. Complete
1. Default Chapter

I was aware of him watching me, from the door, as I worked, but I said nothing. I pretended not to know he was there, as I had pretended any time in the past couple of weeks. I wasn't rude, as such, just not as...friendly as I had been. I didn't smile at his jokes, I tried desperately not to smile when he glanced at me (though I failed quite often), and I let this barrier of coldness slip down between us, so we touched less, stood together less. I spent more time with Daniel now, who was doing his big brother act, and trying to look after me.   
  
Still, I missed him. I'd missed him so much when he was on Edorra, but I hadn't realised I would miss him more when he was home.   
  
Yes, I know he tried to apologise, but that's not the point. The point is, he should have had more faith in me right from the beginning. I always had faith in him, trusted he'd be waiting for us, lay awake at nights imagining his anguish as he waited, his joy when he finally saw us.   
  
I was wrong. He hadn't waited. He hadn't missed us. He hadn't needed me. Everything I'd felt about us, everything I'd believed, everything I'd come to realise I'd felt for him, was a lie.   
  
"Whatcha doing?" he asked. I didn't look up. I can maintain this coolness as long as I don't look into his eyes. When I look into them, I can see the pleading that he'll never put into words, and I almost give in, and become myself with him again.   
  
"Just science stuff, Sir. You wouldn't understand.".   
  
"You used to explain it to me.".   
  
"I used to think you wanted me to.".   
  
I still didn't look up, but I could see him move round the table, until he's facing me. I can see his hands, oddly sensitive for a soldier's, fiddling with anything and everything within reach, and I almost smile at this endearing, if annoying, habit of his.   
  
Almost.   
  
"I still want you to.....Carter, are you still pissed off with me?".   
  
Okay, I definitely do NOT want to get into this discussion with him. I've played this talk in my head a thousand times over at night, in my room, and I've always ending up crying. And in the morning, I kick myself for caring so damn much.   
  
"You're my senior officer, Sir. What you do is none of my business, and I have no feelings either way.".   
  
"Dammit, Carter...!".   
  
"I'm just going by military protocol, Sir!".   
  
Damn. I snapped. I let the mask slip for just a minute. How the hell does Teal'c do this, maintain this calm, cool facade all the time?   
  
"To hell with military protocol, Carter. And regulations too.".   
  
My breath catches, imperceptibly, as I remember a very confused man saying 'It's against regulations!', but I push the memory from my mind. I was wrong. I imagined too much. He doesn't care. I have to remember that.   
  
"Sam, I thought we were friends." he says, in that unbearably gentle tone of voice he uses occasionally, when he's trying so desperately to understand what you're thinking, and hoping he hasn't hurt you.   
  
"We're colleagues, Sir.".   
  
I don't look up, but I can imagine him blinking a moment, his only sign of emotion. At least, I think I can.   
  
"If this is about Laira..." he begins hesitantly.   
  
"No!", I snap, and my heads snaps up too, to face him. I barely register the surprise on his face. I'm too busy being insulted that he could put my distress down to something as trivial as jealousy. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out, and he opens his hands and shrugs, Jack-language for 'I don't know, help me out here'. So I do.   
  
"You have a rule Sir. One golden rule you follow above all others, and you've drummed it into our heads over and over again. No-one gets left behind. Ever. We always go back, even when we think they're dead. You've come back for us. We've come back for you. It's SG1's golden rule.   
Then, one day, you get left behind. Not for an hour, or a day, or even a week, but for a long time. But we remember your rule. He would come back for us, we think, we have to do the same. Daniel travels all over the galaxy, trading and arguing and persuading, trying to get someone to go to you. Janet sits up with me, all night, night after night, keeping me going. Teal'c almost dies on what seems like a futile attempt to dig the gate out.   
And you? We get there. We don't expect thanks. We know better than to expect thanks from you. We do expect some pleasure that we came, some acknowledgement that we kept to SG1's golden rule, at the risk of a lot.   
We don't even get that. All we know is, you don't want to come home. And you didn't expect us to come. You forgot the rule, Sir. Your rule.".   
  
I didn't shout, although I was emphatic. I just stood there, and stated my case. He stood there, for a moment, looking at me, then he turned on his heel, and left, abruptly.   
  
I sat down, heavily, and buried my face in my hands. I shouldn't have spoken like that. I had no right to criticise the way he behaved. I was just...just so damn tired. I still hadn't recovered from the three months intensive work, and although no longer close to collapse, I felt like all the energy in my body was exhausted. I didn't know whether to sleep or cry.   
  
"I was running away.".   
  
He was back, standing there, framed in my doorway, murmuring the words, looking as unsure as I felt. 


	2. Chapter 2

"I was running away." he repeated. "Don't ask me from what. I'm not sure. I only knew that, on edorra, there was peace, and unconditional love, and no war, and no Maybourne, and no...nothing I couldn't cope with. And I was sorry to leave, and come home.   
But I'm glad I did. Ask me why.".   
  
"Why?" I said, as he moved into the room, in front of me.   
  
"Because on Edorra, I was half-dead. Everything I ran away from, were the very things that kept me alive. And, as I walked away from Laira, to you, I realised something.   
On Edorra, no-one laughed at my jokes. Not even me. In fact, I don't think I laughed once while I was there.".   
  
He moved closer, so close we were almost touching. I made the mistake of looking up, straight into his eyes, and I was caught.   
  
"Paradise is nothing without someone who laughs at your jokes." he said, half-seriously.   
  
I didn't dare reply. I didn't dare move. I had the feeling something...I don't know what...was happening, and I was powerless to stop it now. He reached forward, and touched my hand lightly, as it lay on the desk top.   
  
"I am grateful. I've never been a great one to say thank you. But I'm more grateful than I can say.".  
  
I tried to pull my hand away, suddenly afraid of the feelings his touch produced in me, but he held on to it.   
  
"I have to tell you something." he said, not looking at me any more, but at my hand, which he stroked absently, as if he was just another thing for him to fiddle with. "It's classified, and I can't tell you much...".   
  
"Then you shouldn't tell me at all." I insisted.   
  
"I want you to know..I want you to know....I don't know how to say it. I just want...I want you never to stop believing in me. I know I let you down this time, but I'll never do it again. I want you to trust me, whatever happens.".   
  
And with that he left.   
Of course, I know what all that was about now. And, although I'm hurt that he felt he couldn't trust me, in a way, I know he was protecting me. I know I'm not the best of liars,and if I'd given anything away while under Makepeace's command, I'd have been in danger.   
  
He came to see me, later.   
  
"I supposed I deserved that thing about the straws, and the loser." he said, grinning sheepishly as he leaned against the doorframe. I grinned back.   
  
"Oh yeah." I said. "So..." I fudged, looking for an easy way to bring up the question I wanted to ask, "while you were in Edorra, did you...".   
  
"See Laira? No. Never go back, that's what I say." he said, still flippant, as he moved into the room. Then his face turned serious as he looked at me.   
  
"You don't look well, Sam." he said, softly.   
  
"Yeah, well, its been a rough few months.".   
  
"And its all my fault, isn't it? Come here." and he pulled me towards him, and hugged me. It wasn't sexual, but it was comforting, and warm, and it felt like home. "I'm sorry I've given you a bad time. And, if its any consolation, Daniel and Janet and Teal'c had already given me a good telling-off about it.".   
  
"Teal'c did?".   
  
"Well, he raised an eyebrow.".   
  
"Just one?".   
  
"It was his sarcastic one.".   
  
"Oh." I said, pulling away, even as I laughed. It wouldn't do to get too cosy in my commanding officer's arms.   
  
"Sam, what I said in the corridor, about....".   
  
"About not acting like yourself since you met me? Forget it Sir, I know you were acting up for Teal'c." I said quickly, careful to avoid thinking of that stinging, cruel remark.   
  
"No, no I meant it." he said , but he must have seen my expression, because he added quickly, "Not like that! For cryin' out loud, Carter, don't you know me better than that by now? I meant...I meant before I met you, I was a bastard, just like I was behaving. But since I met you...I've become an okay person. I think. I have a conscience. Most of the time. And I try to do the right thing...am I making any sense at all here, Sam?".   
  
I nodded, close to tears again, but this time for a different reason.   
  
"Yes Sir." I managed to say.   
  
"Good." he said, in that slightly confused way he has when he thinks he done something good, but he's not quite sure what. He turned to go, but then turned again.   
  
"It's good to see you smile at me again, Sam.".   
  
"It's good to have a reason to smile again, Sir.".   
  
He looked at me, for a very long second, then one hand moved forward, almost involuntarily, and touched me lightly, on the cheek. He smiled slowly, a rare genuine smile.   
  
"I can't believe I almost lost you." he murmured, so quietly that I almost thought I'd imagined it. Then he shook himself, as if suddenly aware of what he was he doing.   
  
"Get some sleep Sam. God knows you deserve it. And no offence, but you look terrible. And yes, I know that's my fault. Just...do whatever you have to do to get better.".   
  
"Yes, Sir." I whispered, as he left.   
  
So okay, things aren't back to being what they were. But there's hope again. And dreams of the future, a future with him, again. And that's gotta be good, right?   
  
THE END 


End file.
